The Other Woman

I always swore I wouldn’t, but I did. I didn’t see it coming. But now I know how perfectly good and decent ladies turn down the dark and heinous path of crime, the crime of Makeup Application in Public, an etiquette Class 2 Misdemeanor. It sure as heck wasn’t an upper class misdemeanor, this I know. But I do know what I’ve always thought of “those women” whom I’ve observed doing “that.” Not my cup of tea, dear. Why, I nevuh!

It started quite innocently with a busy week, a healthy dose of preoccupation and five consecutive nights with less than six hours’ sleep. I should have seen the warning signs. There were actually only two signs (forgetting to charge my iPod and having it go dead on me at the bottom of the steepest hill I had yet to climb in 105 heat index – that, and on another day forgetting my jewelry and winding up at the office feeling utterly naked)…but I shoulda known this one was coming.

I will forgo all the excuses I am convinced are perfectly legitimate, like working late Thursday night followed by a mess ‘o hot sex libidinous diversion (how else can I tone that down?) which kept me up even later, restless sleep, toddler interruptus at 0330 and then having to arise extra-early to start my commute at 0630 instead of the usual 0700.

I was on top of the world making it work anyway and ejecting out the door precisely on time, with that nagging feeling I was forgetting something. Keys, check – phone, check – coffee, check – nourishment, check – iPod, check – earrings by gosh, check. Love ya, bye!

About 15 minutes into the commute, I caught a glance in the mirror as I went to bypass the usual left-lane-creepers who don’t know to move it on over. There I was, in all my plain-Jane glory, without makeup – and no way, no time to turn back. I would have to face the world with, um, just my face. Hoo-wah!

The next 5 minutes were devoted to the most wasteful of mental debates. Will anyone notice? Will they tell me what they told my coworker the other day when she forgot hers, how tired she looked? Yah, not enough sleep – no way to hide. Who cares, really? Dare I? Yes! So onward I steered, fearing naught and ready to take on the world, sans makeup. Done it before, often at home, just not left the house like that in awhile. It’s probably more for my sanity, anyway, than for others’.

I dedicated not one more thought to it until I found myself in the right turn lane headed into a store – what’s this?! I never stop on my commute. My alter-ego had grabbed the wheel and took over without my permission, better judgment and common sense combined. Before I knew it, I was at the checkout with brand new items of my favorite makeup, recklessly risking running late.

The rest of me was perched up in the rafters of the store peering down at the woman at the checkout, having an out-of-body experience.

That was not me, I swear. That was some Other Woman.

I would never do such a thing – I mean, how totally stupid and vain. How futilely silly! Gadzooks, it’s just one day.

This other woman at the checkout proceeded to the car where she drove off in my car, steering with one hand, using her other hand in cahoots with her teeth to open the new packages.

A short time later, this other woman came to an abrupt halt at the World’s Longest Traffic Light, and lickety-split fast as lightning, this bubbleheaded-other woman flipped down the visor and opened the mirror and went to work in methodical order, as though she were in the privacy of her own mirror at home. (*POOF*) Fellow commuters simply did not exist. Lalalalala, can’t see meeee!

(Step aside, ladies of the night, here comes the Hussy of the Highway!)

Packed it up right quick, stored it in her purse and returned the visor to its rightful position in the blinding morning sun as though nothing had happened, and suddenly that other woman was drifting in spirit over to the other cars to see what the Joneses were up to – sure enough, one other car contained a hair salon event in progress, in another was some intense texting and yet another was too into his chicken-fried steak biscuit to notice the light turned green. Nobody raised stones to stone her. Geez, no one seemed to notice.

And off I went.

Later that day while digging for my phone, I was perplexed to discover a brand new eyeliner in the bottom of my purse.

How’d that get there?

Wow, that’s great, I thought…I was just about to run out at home! Great timing…I usually run out before I’ve purchased a new one, leaving me limping along and making do and engaging in a mad-dash to the drug store on my lunch hour and paying too much for my lack of planning and patience.

I got caught up in traffic and my mind wandered away somewhere into a song I once knew, forgetting about my alter-angel.

That night I was awoken by distant thunder, a comforting rumble approaching along the water. I suddenly remembered the Other Woman and how she commandeered my psyche, and where I was lacking, she filled a need – a need I never in my right mind would have ever condoned. She did something nice, fleeting but terribly off-course, and then it was gone. But the nice lingered like magic dust catching my eye like a little sparkle here and there, like the stars in the sky you can only see more clearly when you don’t look directly at them.

She had disappeared into the traffic of the daily buzz of life, and I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again, or if she’d ever veer me off-track and catch me unawares. I wanted to thank her for taking that short moment of time to do something so simple that really wasn’t a necessity, but it made everything so much more, well, everything. I didn’t get to, and now she’s gone. But I’ve got a nice new supply of makeup out of the deal so I can keep my game face on, and carry on, as though I was never lacking.

Thanks, God, for life’s little detours and for making our brains have the capacity for dual operations when needed, so between You and us and the unknown, we are made whole. Thanks for teaching us to withhold judgment until we’ve walked all paths. And thanks for the extra makeup I can now keep in my desk at work (next to the spare pair of earrings) in case I ever have another moment like this week’s. Oh, yeah, and help me to go my way and misdemeanor no more.

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